


We'll Be Alright

by ephemeralstark



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Gen, IronDad and SpiderSon, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Underage Drinking, like one sip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23544301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstark/pseuds/ephemeralstark
Summary: Tony hosts an annual charity fundraiser and May allows Peter to have a glass of champagne - turns out it was gross anyway, but when Tony sees him with a glass in his hand he can't help but remember how his teenage years had been.He can't help but worry.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694386
Comments: 12
Kudos: 315
Collections: ellie marvel fics - read





	We'll Be Alright

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by a prompt from @[hades-in-a-handbag](https://hades-in-a-handbag.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr :D and therefore this fic is dedicated to them!! hope you all enjoy

“Stop tugging at it.” May muttered as she lightly batted Peter’s hands away from his bowtie. “Do you know how many YouTube tutorials it took for me to get that right?”

_Right? Is that what we’re calling it,_ Peter wondered as he looked down at the lopsided, one side bigger than the other, bowtie.

“Yeah, I sat through them all too.” Peter mumbled, wringing his hands together to try and supress the urge to meddle with the damn tie.

“You look so grown up,” May murmured as she stepped back, holding him at arm’s length to take everything in, “I wish Ben was here to see you like this – I bet he’s proud of you, wherever he is now.”

Peter smiled at her before pulling her in for a hug, her floral perfume tickled his nose as he did so.

“I love you May,” he murmured, “and I know Ben still does too, although he’s probably jealous he’s not here to see you in that dress because you look beautiful.”

May let out a large laugh, her eyes sparkling, “you’re a charmer kiddo, keep that up and you won’t have to pine over your friend any longer.”

“May!” Peter yelped in protest.

“Come on kiddo, I’m not blind, I see that look in your eyes.” May teased.

“Alright, alright,” Peter mumbled, ducking his head to ignore his flaming cheeks, “come on, don’t we have somewhere to be?”

“So now you’re eager to get going, just to escape the teasing?” May asked. “Fine, have it your way, we probably shouldn’t keep Mr. Stark’s driver waiting anyway.”

“Yep, so eager.” Peter muttered as he handed May her jacket.

Together they walked out of the small, crowded Queens apartment, wearing outfits that cost more than their monthly rent, arms linked and laughs bouncing off the walls.

Peter felt light.

He hadn’t been looking forward to the Stark’s annual charity fundraiser, but Mr. Stark had said that he would appreciate it greatly if Peter was there, and he just couldn’t look his mentor in the eye and refuse.

Despite the fact he hated large gatherings like that, and he hated noise, and he was going to end up being lectured for hours on end by MJ about the capitalist society they lived in – _even though it was for charity._

He could already see her shark-like grin and muttered, “eat the rich, Peter.”

Despite all of that, he was ready to have a good night.

The car was as ostentatious as ever, but the driver in the seat wasn’t Happy which was disappointing, but Peter knew he’d see the grumpy man at the fundraiser, he had been given the night off so he could attend. The guy who had replaced him for the night was obviously stressed and trying extremely hard to do his best, making Peter wonder if he’d been told who he was picking up or if he’d assumed that Peter and May were rich guests at the fundraiser.

Surely after seeing where they lived, he realised that they weren’t?

Yet, he was still being ridiculously over polite, and he was calling Peter and May ‘Sir’ and ‘Ma’am’. It was weird. He missed Happy. He missed the snarky man who often appeared disgruntled but still humoured Peter’s constant jokes and rambling speeches about what he’d done throughout the day.

The drive to Stark Tower didn’t take long, which was a relief, as Peter was feeling more and more antsy with every passing moment.

Mr. Stark had promised him that there wouldn’t be anything to worry about, he wasn’t there to be watched by anyone, he wasn’t there as some sort of test, he was just there to have a good time and maybe rescue Mr. Stark from a long conversation with a stuffy business man every now and then.

He could do that.

He couldn’t do it. As soon as they walked in and a man took May’s jacket, he knew that. There were people everywhere, most of them were holding champagne flutes and Peter could _hear_ the bubbles inside fizzing, he could hear the constant clinking of the glasses knocking against each other.

It was a lot.

“Come on, sweetie,” May murmured, “let’s see what’s going on, maybe we’ll bump into Tony.”

“Won’t he be busy?” Peter wondered, sticking close by his Aunt’s side as they ventured further into the overcrowded room.

“I’m sure he can make time for you.” May said.

A waiter wearing a suit that looked even more expensive than Peter’s walked up to them, in his hand was a tray of those bubbly glasses.

“Can I interest you both?” He asked with a polite smile.

“Oh thank you!” May exclaimed, taking a glass from the try.

The man turned his expectant eyes upon Peter and inched the tray slightly closer, an offering, “oh, uh, I can’t-” he stammered.

“It’s alright, sweetie,” May said, “you can have one, after all this is a special event.”

“Oh, uh ok, thanks,” Peter said to the waiter as he took the glass from the tray, he waited until the waiter had wandered off, “you know this probably wont have any effect on me right? I’m pretty sure I’ll metabolise it before I can get a buzz.”

“All the better for me then,” May said with a shrug, “I won’t have to worry about you coming home drunk any time soon.”

Peter let out a laugh and took a sip of the bubbles.

_Ew_

That was one of the worst things he’s ever tasted, it was like licking a grapefruit, he held the liquid in his mouth for a moment – face screwed up in disgust – and debated whether or not he could get away with spitting it back into the glass. No, that was gross, and knowing his luck someone would see, or Mr. Stark would see.

So with no other option, he gathered all of his courage and swallowed.

He had to fight back a gag, that was the worst thing he’d ever swallowed, and he’d lived with May’s cooking for years.

“I don’t think you’d have to worry about me getting drunk even if I could,” Peter said to May, “this is the worst thing in the world.”

May just laughed and took a sip from her glass, face smooth as though it wasn’t liquid poison she was ingesting, “pour most of that in my glass, but keep a little in the bottom so no one thinks you’re finished and wanting more,” she said to him.

“Huh,” Peter mumbled, “smart.”

“That’s me,” May murmured, “now, you go socialise I think Tony’s by that back wall, I want to see if I can find that waiter who had the tray of vol-au-vents. I haven’t had one of those since mine and Ben’s wedding.”

With that, Peter was on his own.

He knew why May had left him, and he couldn’t blame her, if she hadn’t then he would have spent the entire night clinging to her arm and hiding from all the strangers. She knew that this was the only way to force him to leave her and go find his mentor.

Peter weaved between the nicely dressed people, some of them glancing at him for a split second before looking away, bored. They probably thought he was the son of a rich donor or something – he wasn’t worth their time. Oh how right they were without realising, he wasn’t even the son of anyone rich, he wasn’t anyone for them to try and remember.

“There he is!” Tony shouted, drawing the attention of far too many people for Peter’s liking. “Rhodey say hi to the kid.”

Peter – who had ducked his head to try and avoid the gazes of the masses – looked up. That was…

“You’re War Machine.” Peter said, as if the man didn’t already know who he was.

“Rhodey will do,” he said, smiling at Peter who thought he was having the best moment of his life, “you’re Peter, right? Tony’s said a lot about you.”

Peter looked at Mr. Stark in shock, had he really? His mentor didn’t meet his eyes, instead he was staring at the almost – but not quite – empty glass in Peter’s hands.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked.

“Huh?” Mr. Stark’s eyes jumped up to meet Peter’s and he forced a smile on his face before throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulders – it was tense. “So, Rhodey, tell me - Isn’t he adorable?”

“Mr. _Stark_!” Peter protested, looking betrayed.

“Ignore him,” Colonel Rhodes said with an easy smile, “he’s just winding you up because he hasn’t got any new material on me.”

“He teases you too, Colonel Rhodes?” Peter asked.

“It’s how he shows he cares,” Colonel Rhodes said, “and it’s just Rhodey, kid.”

“Good luck with that.” Mr. Stark said with a snort. “I’ve been trying to get him to call me Tony since we met, it’s like its impossible for him or something.”

“Well, I’m not one to give in easily.” Colonel Rhodes said. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two to it, I want to see how many of those mini quiches I can eat before the waiters start actively trying to avoid me.”

Peter couldn’t help but laugh at the image that came along with that statement.

“Hey, Pete?” Mr. Stark asked quietly. “Can I have a word?”

“Uh, sure,” Peter mumbled, “did I do something wrong?”

“No, not really,” Mr. Stark said, “come on let’s head down to the labs.”

Peter’s heart was in his throat the entire way there and he couldn’t help but think that this was it, it was the moment Mr. Stark would tell him he could no longer be his intern, he couldn’t make anymore suits for Spider-Man, he couldn’t…

“Underoos, stop stressing,” Mr. Stark said, leaning against the workbench, “you’re fine.”

“What do you mean by I ‘didn’t really do something wrong’?” Peter asked. “Either I did or I didn’t.”

“I mean, you shouldn’t be drinking underage,” Mr. Stark said, “but I guess it’s more my problem that yours. Shit, kid, I’m sorry I’m going about this all wrong. I was just… I don’t know.”

“What?” Peter asked, cocking his head in confusion.

“Seeing you there, with that glass in your hand brought back a lot of memories for me.” Mr. Stark admitted. “I don’t know how much you know about my teenage years, but I know the press doesn’t do me any injustice. I was a wild kid, I drank most of my allowance, I slept around, I got into trouble and used my privilege to get away without a punishment.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Peter asked.

“Because I saw you with that glass,” Mr. Stark nodded at the almost empty champagne flute, “and I just had all these images in my head of you following in my footsteps. You’re a _good_ kid, Pete, and I don’t want you wasting your potential on alcohol. It becomes so easy to get trapped in addiction. Maybe I’m overstepping here, or maybe I’m not, but I just don’t want to see you suffer in the same way I did. You know?”

“I understand,” Peter said, “and you’re not overstepping. I’m your intern, I can’t bring you bad press.”

“No, it’s more than that, Kid,” Mr. Stark said, “I care about you, and I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“You do?” Peter asked quietly.

“Of course, do you think I’d keep you around if I didn’t?” Mr. Stark asked. “I don’t know if you know, but I’m a bit impulsive and uncontrollable. If I didn’t like you then I wouldn’t worry so much about you, I wouldn’t keep you around or reply to your dumb texts at 2am when you should be sleeping.”

“So should you.” Peter mumbled.

“Besides the point,” Mr. Stark said with a shrug, “I’m trying to tell you I’m concerned.”

“About this?” Peter asked, holding up his glass.

“Exactly.”

“Mr. Stark I had one sip and it was gross so I poured most of it into May’s glass and I’ve been carrying this around so no one offers me more.” Peter said.

“May knows?” Was all he took away from that.

“Of course, she gave me permission.” Peter said.

“Good.” Mr. Stark seemed to take a breath and relaxed against the workbench, he ran a hand over his face and exhaled loudly between his fingers. “Shit, kid, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I’m putting all my problems on you,” Mr. Stark said, “I saw you with a drink and automatically assumed you were going to follow the same path I did.”

“No, you’re looking out for me.” Peter said.

“Don’t make excuses for me.” Mr. Stark said. “You had one sip of champagne and I assumed you were on the road to teenage alcoholism.”

“Mr. Stark, I’m not mad.” Peter said quickly, trying to prevent his mentor from spiralling down a self-deprecating path. “I get it, when you’ve been through something like that you see it everywhere, it makes sense that you’d be worried.”

“Oh, kid,” Mr. Stark said pushing off the workbench and pulling Peter into his arms, “you remember when I was mad and I told you I wanted you to be better?”

Peter – who had melted into the embrace – nodded against his shoulder, wondering why Mr. Stark was bring that up now.

“You are,” Mr. Stark whispered, “you’re the best of all of us.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed, please drop a comment if you'd like!! and you can send a prompt to me on tumblr @[ephemeralstark](https://ephemeralstark.tumblr.com/)
> 
> if you like this fic why not try my other fic: 
> 
> [Keep On Fighting In the Meantime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299702)  
> Summary: One decision is all it takes for someone's life to be thrown upside down, and sometimes it's not even a decision they've made.  
> Or, a drunk driver runs a red light and hits a car containing Peter and Happy. The physical and emotional injuries aren't going to go away easily, but thankfully Mr. Stark is always there for his family.


End file.
